Canary (29 page)

I thought about her reaction, and I vowed to do what she would have done.

I wouldn't let Luke get away with this.

And I certainly wouldn't let Dad get away with it either.

www.allmytruths.com

Today's Truth:

Sometimes no matter how loud you talk, no one can hear you.

Dad doesn't care about how

you hurt me, just that I spoke the truth loud.

He doesn't want to do

anything to help me. He protects you

over me. He ignores how you have

destroyed me. I want to yell

and shout my pain until

I can force the world to listen. Until they

have no choice but to stop and hear

how my life has been destroyed by you.

Posted By: Your Present Self

[Thursday, January 9, 5:23 PM]

The next day in class, Mrs. Reynolds called me up to her desk. “Do you mind running these papers to your dad?”

I bit my bottom lip. I wanted to say no, but how do you tell a teacher you don't want to take papers to your own dad?

“Sure.” I took the stack and walked slowly to his office. I prayed he'd be in a meeting. Somehow, luck was on my side. When I arrived, his door was open but his seat was empty. I slipped in and put everything on his desk. I was about to leave when I heard someone come in.

Whoever it was came up behind me before I could turn around, and I felt breath hot on the back of my neck, tickling my ear. “What a surprise. I came in here to find Coach and got you instead.”

I spun around.

A hand grabbed my hip.

It was Luke.

“Hey,” he said. “Long time, no see.”

I wiggled myself out of his grasp and tried to go around him, but he moved in front of me.

“What? Are you too good to talk to me?”

I wished Dad would show up.

“I hear you're saying bad things about me.”

I bit my lip to keep quiet. He was scaring me. Should I scream? Someone would come quickly, wouldn't they?

He licked his lips and smirked at me. “People are saying you're talking about how I tried to rape you. I told them they were wrong. You asked for it so bad that night.”

“No,” I said, but my voice was shaky and small. I spoke louder. “I didn't want that.”

He put his fingers on my shoulder and let them trail down my arm slowly. “It sure seemed like you wanted it.”

I couldn't do this. It was impossible to talk to Luke and stay okay.

His fingers stopped and wrapped around my wrist. “I think you might want to think about telling the truth instead of spreading lies.”

“You wanted me to pass out.” I pulled my arm out of his grip, my fingernails scratching him. “You put something in my drink.” I spat the words at him.

Luke paused, and for a second, a brief moment before his face twisted back into its usual slimy mask, I saw panic.

And I knew what Jenna had told me was true.

“You think I drugged you? Come on, Kate. Do you really think I need to resort to something like that to get ass? You're little friend Ali spread her legs for me the instant I glanced at her.”

“You're a disgusting pig.”

Luke shrugged. “Hey, say what you want. But I wonder who people would believe if they saw the picture Ali sent me.”

The room felt like it was spinning. I grabbed the edge of Dad's desk for support. “What are you talking about?” I asked, but I already knew what picture he meant.

He winked at me. “It seems our little Kate gets a thrill out of showing people her tits. But I already found that out. You were all about me seeing them at Jack's.”

Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed it down. “Please, Luke, please delete the picture.”

“What was that?” he asked and moved so close I could feel his breath against the side of my face. “Do I hear you begging me? Just like you begged for it at Jack's house?”

“Go to hell,” I said.

I bolted. I ran out the door and down the hallway. I ran and ran and didn't feel like I'd ever be able to get far enough away from Luke.

www.allmytruths.com

Today's Truth:

You need to know how to act in an emergency.

TIMELINE TO DISASTER:

10:10 a.m.

Realize you can't hide from Luke in the bathroom all day. Go to your next class when you hear the bell ring. Keep your eyes down. There is no one you want to see and everyone you want to avoid.

10:13 a.m.

Hurry into third period and pass two basketball players, panic because they are staring straight at you. They're smiling. You feel like a rabbit caught between two lions. Avert your gaze and convince yourself this isn't about what Luke mentioned. Try to act normal and pretend you're okay.

10:37 a.m.

Notice the whispers and glances. Watch as they pull out their phones and check them, then lean over to their neighbors who also look at their phones. Hear your own phone vibrating in your bag but leave it there. You're too busy focusing on your desk, pretending you are invisible as more heads turn toward you.

11:09 a.m.

Rush out of class when it ends. Run down the hall because you know something is wrong. People are looking, people are laughing, people are pointing at you.

11:10 a.m.

Put your hand in your bag and feel the shape of your phone. Tell yourself to check your message. It's probably a text from Julia that has you scared for nothing. Tell yourself you'll laugh when you find out it's not a big deal. Talk yourself into believing that, but still don't open your phone.

11:11 a.m.

See Jack coming toward you in the hall. He's with Amanda. They are holding hands, and you hate him for it. Turn and walk the other way.

11:14 a.m.

Take your seat in art, a different seat for the last few weeks, away from the table of friends you used to sit with. Work on a picture of dark browns, reds, and black, blobs that bleed together but make no images.

11:56 a.m.

Create a sudden jagged line across your paper as a note is thrust in front of you. Unfold it and read, “Nice boobs
.
” Tear the note up until it's tiny pieces of confetti. Push them off your desk and watch as they flutter to the ground.

11:58 a.m.

Open your cell phone to the picture of yourself that you never wanted Jack to see. Hear the room erupt in catcalls and applause. You're open and exposed. There is nothing you can do to hide.

Posted By: Your Present Self

[Tuesday, January 14, 10:47 AM]

Art wasn't over, but I grabbed my bag and walked out the door. I couldn't sit in class acting as if everything was okay, because it wasn't. Everyone had seen the picture of me and watched for my reaction when I pulled out my phone. The same awful picture I never wanted Jack to see was now on every single person's phone in the school.

I headed to the competition gym, the last place I figured anyone would find me. I knew it would be empty; I'd memorized Jack's schedule months ago. I took a seat on the bottom bleacher and stared at the court, trying not to remember all the times I'd sat and cheered Jack on. In my head, I heard the ball bouncing across the floor, the squeaking of sneakers and shouts between team members. I shut my eyes and tried to picture Dad's games that Brett and I used to go to with Mom. I saw it vividly, all of us together, a family still.

I held on to the image of the four of us until a bell rang, signaling the end of class. I jumped up and ran into the hallway before someone found me alone. I slipped between everyone else pushing their way to class and kept my head down.

“Skank,” a voice said, and an elbow jabbed me.

I skidded a little and dropped my blue tote bag. My books and other items spilled out all over. I bent to pick things up, grabbing the copy of 
The Great Gatsby
 I was reading for English, scooping up pens and papers, trying not to see who was walking around me, afraid of who I'd make eye contact with. I reached for a notebook that had slid away from me and a foot went flying in front of me, kicking it down the hall. I lost sight of most of the remaining items as they were passed from person to person, a makeshift soccer game, as people laughed and whispered from all around me.

The bell rang, and everyone cleared.

I picked up what I could find, shoving it all in my bag, not caring if I crumpled things.

I stood and locked gazes with Ali, who was striding down the hallway, talking with Jenna,
ignoring the fact that the bell had already rung.

I froze as they continued straight toward me.

“Hi, Kate,” Ali said when they reached me.

I stood quickly. I tried to back away but hit a locker.

Jenna smirked, “Sexy pic. I had no clue you were into that stuff.”

“So,” Ali said. “I hear you're still pretending you didn't throw yourself at Luke.”

“I didn't do anything,” I said and clenched my teeth.

Jenna walked around me slowly. “You're nothing but a nasty slut,” she said, shoving me into the locker.

I winced and looked at her incredulously. How could she shift from the girl she was in the bathroom to who she was now? Had I been so wrong about the people I once called my friends?

“None of this is my fault,” I said.

“Get real,” Ali started. “After that picture you sent out, no one is going to believe you.”

“I didn't send the picture out.” My voice rose in a frenzy.

“Right,” Ali said, drawing out the word. “Just like you didn't screw Luke.”

“It's the truth,” I said, trying to sound firm, even though it was taking every ounce of my strength to not break down.

I ducked to the left, shooting around the girls before they could stop me.

“You're nothing. You blew it with us. Now you don't matter to anyone,” Ali shouted after me.

Jenna laughed.

I ran, my bag slapping my side, threatening to spill open again as Ali yelled louder and louder.

I ran as heads poked out of classroom doors and teachers looked to see what all the noise was about.

I ran when they saw who was in the hallway and why and did nothing to stop it.

I left Beacon, and I didn't care if I ever went back again. My tennis shoes slipped on ice as I walked down the hill from school. Big fat flakes fell from the sky, and I wished I could lie in the snow. I imagined myself falling asleep, letting the flakes layer on top of me until I was nothing but a pile of white. I'd become a frozen piece of myself, with a hard ice shell to keep everyone from getting too close.

At my house, I wrapped myself in Mom's old quilts and sat looking out at the pool. The wind whipped and bent the tree branches. I stared at the gray sky, trying to figure out what to do. There was no way I could show my face at Beacon again. Not with that picture all over the place. It was only a matter of time until Dad found out about the picture too. He hadn't believed me when I'd told him Luke tried to rape me, and the picture would only confirm his thoughts that what happened was my fault.

Julia seemed to think it was so simple to stand up to Luke and the rest of the players, but it wasn't. They were everything to the school, to the community, to Dad.

I focused on the pool outside. It made me think of a different pool, one from when I was younger. A community pool Brett and I would beg Mom to take us to because our friends hung out there. She always protested that we had our own pool and it was silly to go somewhere else to do something we could do in our own backyard. But usually Mom would agree and pack a cooler full of snacks that cost a lot less than the ones they sold at the pool, though the pool snacks always tasted better. We'd throw our towels and sunscreen into a wagon and take turns pulling it.

Brett's friends were wild boys who did cannonballs off the side of the pool, soaking the girls who were lying on towels. They ran along the side of the pool and made the guards blow their whistles, reminding them to slow down and walk. My friends were girls I knew from school, girls I'd sit and giggle with on blankets, jumping into the shallow sections when we got too hot, and watching everyone through our sunglasses and talking about them. The boys had their side of the turf; we had ours.

The pool had been my favorite place to go until the day Dad came along.

Mom was usually the one to take us since Dad worked basketball camps during the week, but it was a Sunday and the four of us were stir-crazy, ready to get out of the house. We all walked there together, separating when we arrived, Mom and Dad in chairs under an umbrella and Brett and I with our friends.

I was lying with my friends, eating junk food and watching the little kids splash each other in the baby pool, when a shadow fell over our towels.

“Kate, how about you and Brett jump off the high dive with me?”

My friends and I looked up, holding our hands to our eyes against the glaring sun, to see Dad staring down.

I shrugged, my lips salty from eating chips out of a can and hands greasy from sunscreen. “Sure, Dad, I'll jump, but I don't know about Brett. He doesn't like the high dive.”

Dad acted as if he hadn't heard me and headed over to Brett and his friends. I followed, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince Brett.

Heights were Brett's weakness. For as long as I could remember, Brett was terrified of high places. Otherwise, he wasn't afraid of anything. He would go into the woods at night, watch scary movies where people got hacked up with chainsaws, and taunt the big dog two houses down, but he refused to have anything to do with heights.

Brett was pretty good at keeping his fear hidden. I could see what he was doing each time we went to the pool, running around with his friends or staying in line at the slide, avoiding the diving area.

“Brett,” Dad said, reaching him and his friends. “I want to see you jump off the high dive. Kate and I are heading over there.”